A Twist of Fate
by spax99
Summary: A music hater from our time meets the Phantom of the Opera. Can he change her opinion on music, and can she change his dismal outlook?
1. Chapter 1

**Hope you enjoy the story! This will be a mix of the book, movie, and musical, because I like all of them!**

**I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, and sadly never will.**

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><p>I have a pounding headache. It is dark, and I can't see nor hear anything. I have no idea why I'm here, or where here is. I think back to the alst thing I remember. It was earlier today, yes, now everything becomes clear. But I should start at the begining, where all stories begin...<p>

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><p>I was sitting in English class, it can't have been more than 4 hours ago, daydreaming. The teacher walked over and told me to pay attention. I listened on the lecture she was giving.<p>

"Today you will be starting the novel _The Phantom of the Opera_. I expect you all to have it finished by next week." She came around putting a book on each desk. I groaned inwardly. A book about music. I hate music. It hasn't always been that way... Nevermind. The bell rang, and I had walked out of class. I put a hat on my head. I needed to wear hats, you see, to hide the fact that I was different. I had cat ears. I can also see a person I know's future or past, but no one knows about that and I can't control when it happens. I walked to detention with my least favorite teacher. He hated me. Whenever I messed something up, he saw fit to beat me. I had bruises all over the left side of my face from his punishment. I hid them with hair. I had bruises on my arms too, but I just used excuses with those, like I fell. I was used to this, as my father had treated me the same way. Most people in this school treated me different. I was the lowest of the low, for something I didn't even control. I mulled this over in detention, and for screwing something up I earned a few more bruises on my cheek.

I began the long trek back to the dorm I lived in. Some kids lived in the school, and I was in building 7, for 7th grade. I was almost back when I was grabbed by a boy passing me. He held me against the wall and started punching me. I kicked at him and tried every fighting technique I knew, but to no prevail. Some other kids on their way to diner (which I rarely attended) stopped and watched. They laughed at me.

"You're gonna go to hell, y'know?" The boy said.

I didn't reply, but I did spit in his face. He reeled back, but made certain not to let me go. He held my arm tightly. He dragged me down the hallway. He opens a closet in a deserted section of the school. I struggle, and I almost get away. But he clubs me over the head, and I colapsed. He must've shoved me into the closet.

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><p>So that must be where I am now. I feel around for a door knob. I find one, but it's locked. So, I do what anyone in my situation would do. I throw myself against the door, hoping that I could break it. I try several times, and figure, once more. As I throw myself at the door, someone opens it. I fly into the person standing on the other side of the door.<p>

"WAHH!" We both yell in unison. I knocked her down, and landed on top of her. I quickly scurry off of her, and I apologize several times before I realize that she had said it was no biggy.

"Are you all right?" She asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say back.

"I haven't seen you around before, what's your name?" She asks. I'm stunned. No one ever asked to know my name. None of my classmates knew it, and I don't think many of my teachers really know it either.

"Oh, uhh, I'm Jay," I say.

"A pleasure to meet you, Jay. I'm Antoinette." She says.

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine." I say, not really sure how to reply. I notice a few thing about this girl that are odd. One, she's about 18 years old, and this school only went up to 8th grade. Two, she has a French accent, and that's unusual for people in this area of the city. Oh well.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"Why Mademoiselle, you are in the Opera Populaire." She says.

"Umm, where's that?" I ask.

"Paris. You know, the one in France." She said, looking exasperated.

"Huh? But, I was just in Arizona, and, and..." I say.

"Arizona?" She asks.

"Oh, nevermind." I reply. "When is this?" I ask.

"Why it's the year 1850." Antoinette replies.

My eyes widen. How on earth did I get from 2012 to 1850? Wait, that would be just befor the phenomina of the 'Phantom of the Opera'. I walk straight into a wall. It hurts, so that leaves out all possibility of me dreaming this all.

"Are you all right, Jay?" asks Antoinette.

"Hmm? Oh, oh yes, yes, I'm fine." I say.

"Would you like to come with my friends and I? We were going to a fair down the street. I hear it's run by gypsys!" Excitement glistened in her eyes as she asked me. I nodded. 10 minutes later, I could no longer brush this off as a joke. I had seen the outside of the building, and I was definitely not home. We walked to the carnival with a few other girls. Some were older than Antoinette, and some were even younger than me. I was glad that I still had my hat on, so that they wouldn't shun me as well. We walked around for a while. Then, a couple of the girls pulled us all into a tent. The man running the tent was shouting, much to my displeasure. With ears like mine, you wouldn't want someone yelling either.

"See the Devil's Child!" He yelled. I was about to exit the tent (this guy was too loud) but something made me stop dead in my tracks. There was a boy in the cage it the center of the room. He was covered with cuts and whiplashes, and I knew he was being treated wrong. He had a bag covering his face. The man then dramatically pulled off the bag, and there was gasping and some shrieking. His face was awful. It was deformed and twisted, the skin hanging from the bone in places. It was only one side of his face. I felt awful just sitting here. I walked up to the front of the crowd. I noticed that the boy was much younger than I would have guessed, maybe 9 or 10. He looked scared. I backed into the shadows and waited for the tent to empty out. When there was no one in the tent I slipped out of the shadows. The boy didn't see me as I approached the cage.

"Hey," I whisper. The boy turns around, and though the bag covers his face, I can tell by his eyes that he's scared. He retreats into the shadows of the cage.

"Wait! I won't hurt you," I whisper. He comes out of the shadows, very slowly. He studies me for a second, and then comes out of the shadows completely.

"Why are you talking to me?" He asked. I was shocked. That was the exact same thing I'd have asked in his position. I just shrug, I really don't know why I'm talking to this boy. I can tell that he's smiling at my response, but fear enters his eyes again. Not fear of me, but fear of being left alone. I suddenly knew I had to leave.

"I've got to go," I whisper.

"Oh, wait, I don't even know your name, Mademoiselle." He says. He grabs my arm, and his skin is cold as ice. I felt somewhat scared, his grip was strong, and I had no idea what he could do. I shudered. His eyes became more desperate, he looked like a lost puppy. I felt really bad. I pull back from him, with more force than intended. He immediately thinks that he's gone too far, and waits to be struck. That's it. I pull a bobbypin out of my hair and walk over to the cage door. I am about to insert it into the lock, when someone grabs me from behind.

"Oh, what a pretty mademoiselle." The man from earlier spins me around. I gulp.

"What are you doing here?" He demands. I say nothing.

"You were trying to help him, weren't you?" He says. This yanks me back to reality.

"So what if I was?" I ask. The boy whimpers. The man turns to him.

"I'll deal with you later," He turns back to me. "I would advise you to leave. _Now._"

"No," I say.

He turns on me with a knife. I gasp as he lunges at me. I pull out a knife I had in my pocket (don't ask) and attempt to land a hit. He may be bigger and stronger, but he couldn't catch me. I lunge in and hit him on the arm with my knife. Unfortunately, I was too slow to retreat and he caught my arm and forced me to the ground. I heard the boy gasp, and realize the man's knife is an inch from my face. I give the boy a reassuring smile, but he looked worried.

"Any last words?" The man asks. I kick and flail about, but he has me too tightly. I end up just spitting in his face. He growls and I close my eyes. And then I hear a choking sound and the man is no longer on top of me. I see a rope around his neck, and he's dead. The other end of the rope is in the boy's hand. The door to the cage is open, and I realize vaguely that I must've broken it in my tussle with the man. The boy walks towards me, and now it's my turn to be scared. He seems to sense this.

"Mademoiselle, I won't hurt you," He says, reaching out his hand.

"You killed him," I say, and I know he did it to save me. He came up to me and gave me his hand. I didn't take it, but sat there with a shocked look in my eyes. This boy had killed a full grown man. He could surely harm me, but I didn't know if he had any intention of doing so.

"Are you all right?" He asks, worried. I still don't know if I trust him. I hear voices. They are very faint, and with my ears I have good hearing, so they must be far away. The boy hasn't heard them yet. But I wasn't going to wait for them to get that close to decide what to do. I grab his arm and run. He seems to get the message. I hear voices ahead of us now. I pull the boy down a narrow alley. I take several turns and find myself at the Opera Populaire. It's now that I realize it was really stupid of me to rescue the boy. I was as lost in the world as he was. What was I going to do?

"Jay," a voice hissed. I spin around, dragging the boy with me. And I see Antoinette.

"Antoinette, I..." I say.

"Don't worry, I would've done the same thing. Come with me." she says. She turns around. The boy gives me a look, one that says_ can we trust her? _He didn't even fully trust me, that I was sure of. I give him a small nod and follow Antoinette. We went down, down, down, it seemed like forever. And then we came to a lake. A lake under the Opera. We walk through the lake (for if you stay in certain areas, it never gets too deep) and over to a house upon the water. Antoinette turns to us.

"This was built when the Opera Populaire first opened. No one comes down here, so you two can stay here for as long as you wish." with that, she left me and the boy in silence. The boy looks at me curiously as I go around the house. There is plenty of stuff in it, an organ, some shelves, a sofa, and... a coffin, which I found very unnerving. The boy stared at me still.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" I ask.

"Because I want to remember this one good moment in my life, before it's gone, before you leave me." he says.

I had no answer to that, so I just turn around and continue my work. After a couple minutes, I come back to the boy. I had managed to find some bandages, and I had some disinfectant in my schoolbag, which was suprisingly still with me. He looks curiously at the disinfectant.

"What's that?" he says.

"It's something that will help keep the cuts you have from getting infected. But it'll sting a little." I say. He nods and I apply it to his cuts and put bandages over them. He then looks at me, and I can tell he's going to ask me something.

"Mademoiselle, are you an angel?"

I think about what the kids in my time had said, and I laugh a little. An angel! A few hours ago, I was going to burn in hell!

"No, I'm not an angel." I say.

"Why did you help me?" he asked. He looked a little shocked that I wasn't an angel. I didn't want to tell him why, but I really didn't want to lie to him. I took a deep breath.

"I'm like you." I say. I kneel down to where he's sitting and he sees the hat. I nod, and he reaches for it. He pulls it off, painfully slow, and I wait for him to say something. I waited for the 'Oh my God!' or the 'Freak!' but didn't recieve one. I open one eye, and I realize that he's laughing.

"You have cat ears!" he cheered.

"That's a good thing?" I ask in a flat voice.

He shrugs, but I don't care. I'm just glad that he's happy.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Oh, right, my name is Jay. What's yours?" I reply.

"Erik," He says. I smile. After I manage to find some food, and some blankets, we lay down to fall asleep, me on the ground and him on the sofa.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks.

"Why would I be?" I ask.

"Because of my face..."

"You aren't scared of my ears," I reply with a sly smile.

"You're beautiful, with or without the ears," He says. I could tell he was troubled, and I was pretty sure I reminded him of someone. But I didn't press the matter.

"Will you sing for me?" He asked.

"Do I have to?" I ask.

"Please?" He replied.

I sigh and hum a gentle tune, and fall asleep with the awful music in my mind.

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><p><strong>Well, there's chapter one! I hope you all enjoyed it, because I really enjoyed writing it. I should update pretty fast since this is all that's been on my mind since I thought of it. If you liked it, or if you didn't, please leave a review so I can become a better author! PLEASE REVIEW! (Yes, I'm pathetic, I already know that)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter 2! I apologize that it's kind of boring, but I promise the story will get better once I finish introductions. Yes, I know, we haven't even met all the characters, and I already know how it will end! MWAHAHAHAHA!**

***Ahem* Sorry, got a little carried away there, on with the chapter!**

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><p>"Hey, are you all right? Please wake up," a strange voice pleads.<p>

I sit up. "Huh?" I mutter.

"Oh, great, you're awake!" A girl with wavy brown hair and choclate brown eyes smiles happily at this fact. I realize that I am no longer in the house on the lake under the opera. I actually have no idea where I am.

"Where am I?" I question.

"You're at the Opera Populaire." Another voice says. I look around and realize that there are several other girls in the room. The one who answered my most recent question was blonde and small.

"What's the date?" I ask.

"It's May 5th, 1880." The first girl says.

1880? How did I get here from 1850? And more importantly, why am I not at home in 2012? My head spun with questions.

"What're your names?" I ask them. The girls introduce themselves, and I can't keep them all straight. Then, the first girl speaks.

"I'm Christine." She says. The blonde follows her.

"I'm Meg." She said. I sigh. How on earth am I to keep their names straight? An older lady comes into the room, she's maybe 40 or 50.

"Leave the girl be, girls." she says. When she looks at me, I see surprise flash across her eyes, but nothing else betrays this emotion. The girls all file out. I look at the woman, who sighs and starts pacing.

"What in the name of... What's going on?" I ask.

"I wish I knew, Jay, I wish I knew." The lady says. I look startled. How on earth does she know my name? Before I can ask, she continues. "I was so worried when you never came back. Now, I see why."

"Huh?" was all I could say. The lady rolls her eyes.

"My name is Antoinette. You should probably call me Madame Giry, and I suspect that you aren't from this time." She says, and now she was eying my aparel. She hadn't noticed it when we had met before, but she noticed it now.

"Umm, no, I'm actually from the year 2012, and I passed out in a closet and now I'm here." I say.

She nods, taking this all surprisingly well.

"You can room with and be a member of the chorus, and you can stay in the room with Meg, my daughter, and Christine, who's like a daughter to me. They won't mind." She says, and then asks "Can you sing?"

I groan. I hate singing.

"I can sing." I say.

"Then he won't be too mad at me." Madame Giry mused to herself. She abruptly realized I was still present, and walked me down the winding hallways to a hall with 4 doors on each side. I enter the third door on the left, labled 7. Christine and Meg were sitting on 2 of the 4 beds. They stop talking and look up as we walk in.

"Girls, this is Jay. From now on, she is going to be on the chorus and ballet with you. She will room with you for now." Madame Giry says, and then walks out.

I was afraid that they would object, but they were actually glad to have me in their room. We talk until dinner. After dinner, we went to bed. But at dinner, I heard of the strange tales of a ghost living in the Opera Populaire.

"His skin is yellow as parchment,"

"A black hole serves as a nose that never grew,"

"He walks around in a dress suit, and has a head of death,"

"If you're not careful, he'll catch you with his magic lasso,"

There were evidentally many things that happened due to this ghost. All the girls claimed to have seen him, and all the girls thought that he was out to get them. I roll my eyes, and I see Christine do the same. We clearly don't believe in the ghost, but we seem to be the only ones that don't.

"Hey Christine, wanna walk with me back so that the ghost doesn't get us?" I ask. She laughs, but then her face turns downcast.

"I have lessons tonight." She says.

"Who with?" I ask.

"I don't know his name."

"Ooooookay," I say. That's super weird. She has lessons with someone whose name she didn't even know. I walk back alone.

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><p>Now I've been at the Opera for a month, and it is exactly the same as being at home. All the girls tease me because I'm short, or because I really smart, but not a good dancer, or because I hardly sing. They played tricks on me, and when they suffered my jokes blamed the ghost. I was clearly not given respect from anyone but Christine, who was usually with her mysterious teacher when this went on, or Meg, and she was usually being told off by her mother.<p>

Today, however things are getting worse.

"Hey, bird girl," One of the chorus girls says. I hate that name almost as much as I hate being called cat girl. No one knew about my ears here, though.

"Hey, you don't believe in the ghost, do you?" another asks. I shake my head, I won't stand for more of the silly nonsense about a ghost.

One of them grabs me around the shoulders. I immediately try to escape, but find myself being dragged by the majority of the chorus to the entrance to the cellar. They shove me in and lock the door. I bang on the door for several minutes, and then, realizing it useless, make my way down the stairs. It was rather dark, but that is one of the advantages to being part cat. My eyes adjust quickly, and I can always land on my feet, even though I fall a lot. I'm able to make my way down without much issue. I reach the bottom of the stairs and go down a hallway at the end, shaped like a T. I go left. I find myself surrounded by mirrrors. I turn around, but I cannot find the way I had come from. I panic. I spin in circles, panting and trying to find an escape. All I saw in was my cloaked figure, reflected at me a hundred times over. And then there's something else. A rope tied like a noose. It slips around my neck, and some unseen force tightens it. As it is tightened, I feel the hood of my cloak that Madame Giry had given me slip off, and I see a figure in black, before the whole world disappears, leaving me with one single thought.

_Why me?_

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><p><strong>So, there you have chapter 2! I hope I haven't bored you to death yet, and I hope to have the next chapter up soon, since tomorrow marks the start of everyone's favorite time of year... STATE TESTING! (groan) I won't have homework, though, so I should have a ton of glorious, amazing, outstanding time! And I won't have to blow off Social Studies homework to write the next chapter (hehe). I didn't get any reviews last time (awww) SO, if you are reading this, PLEASE REVIEW! I love getting reviews (who doesn't?) and am greatly thankfull for any I ever get.<strong>

**Until next time,**

**Peace out, people!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we go with chapter 3! A little short, (sorta just an transition chapter, not much action) but please enjoy anyway!**

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><p>Erik POV<p>

I banged angriliy on the organ. 'Damn, damn, damn' I thought. 'Stupid idiot, of course it had to be a girl!' I glanced over at the girl, who lay on the sofa in my lair. I had released her from the lasso just in time, for any longer could have killed her. For a while, I had thought that she was dead, but she was breathing. And snoring. I started banging on the organ again, making a loud, out of key sound. I didn't care, it wasn't like anyone could hear me.

The girl sat bolt upright, eyes wide open.

"I stand corrected."I muttered to himself. The girl looked around curiously until her eyes landed on me, and they widened slightly.

"Who are you?" She asks.

"The Phantom of the Opera." I reply. She snickered.

"Seriously?" She asks. I nod. At least she wasn't scared of me. Well, not yet, anyhow.

"So Mme. Giry's warnings weren't just rumours." she says. There was something about this girl, something familiar. Well, at least, something that made me not want to strangle her, like I feel like doing with that wretched singer Carlotta. The girl stood and came over to the organ. She looked at what I was working on and frowned slightly.

"Something wrong?" I ask, annoyed.

"Nothing," She said, but her upbeat attitude vanished. I began to wonder if I may have done something to upset her. I hadn't really ever talked to another person face to face, let alone a child. I really hope I don't lose my temper. It was then that I noticed something strange about her appearance. We were inside, yet she still wore a hat.

"What's with the hat?" I ask. Evidentally, not something she wanted asked.

"Why do you wear a mask?" She snapped back. I recoiled as if she had struck me.

"That is none of your concern!" I yell. She is closer to me than I think, and she reaches out and grabs the mask before I can draw further from her. What happens next was so fast I didn't understand it all. She pulled off the mask, and then she was on the ground, her face in her hands. She was crying. I didn't know what had happened. I knew I had lost my temper, and probably told her some nasty things, but she wouldn't cry because of that. It was then that I realized I held a knife in my hand, and to my horror, there was blood on it. I race over next to the girl, picking up my mask along the way. She backs away slightly.

"Let me see." I order. She slowly pulls her hand away from the right side of her face. The other side of her face is covered by hair. There is a cut, a fairly deep one, in her cheek. I reach out to move her head so I could get a better look. She whimpers as my cold hands touch her skin, but she doesn't pull away.

"You're going to need stitches.." I say carefully. I was fairly certain she wouldn't trust me to do it.

"Go ahead," She said, realizing my meaning. I carefully stich the skin back together, and though I knew it must hurt her, she didn't flinch. She was I brave soul, I was willing to give her that.

"I'm really sorry," She said. I could tell by her eyes that she meant it.

"Hmph. Well in the future you should be less foolish." I say. I knew that the apropriate thing to do was apologize, but I wasn't that soft.

"I shouldn't have blown up at you for asking about the hat." She said. And with that, she removes it, and it immediately becomes clear why she wasn't scared when she had seen my face.

"Jay," I say. I had thought that this girl had ditched me long ago, broken her promise to keep me safe. But here she was, and though it had been many years, she hadn't changed. She still had cat ears. She explained to me that she was here through some time goof up, and that she had woken up in this time after falling asleep down here all those years ago.

"So you didn't abandon me." I say.

"No," She says smiling. I turn from her with a swish of my cape.

"I have no need for friends anymore. I don't want you here." I say. I really do want her here, but I won't admit that in a million years.

"Well, too bad, 'cause it's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me." she said.

"Damn, I thought you might say that." I said.

"When I first met you, I thought you looked like a lost little puppy. You certainly do not fit that description now." She said laughing.

"A puppy, Mademoiselle? Must you insult me?" I ask. I know that there is no hope of her leaving.

"Yes, I must." She said smiling.

And I found myself smiling back.

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><p><strong>And, Here's chapter 3! I wanna know what you think about it, 'cuz I really don't know what I think. I had writers block...<strong>

**ANYHOW, PLEASE REVIEW! AND THANX TO ALL OF YOU WHO DID REVIEW, YOU'RE AWESOME!**

**Thanks for reading so far, see ya next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Heeeey! I'm back! No, I wasn't punjabed by Erik (yet). I've been really busy, and quite honestly, I kinda forgot. I'M SO SORRY! If any of you are still actually reading (I won't blame you if you've given up on me) Then please enjoy this chapter, and I promise the others will be up faster than this one.**

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><p><span>Jay's POV<span>

After my encounter with the so called "Phantom" I returned to my room, where I found Meg and Christine looking anxious. When I appeared in the doorway, Christine sprang from her spot on the bed and threw her arms around my neck. Not what I was expecting.

"We were so worried when you didn't come back! Where the heck were you?" Christine asks, and she sounds very worried. I explained how the choir members had locked me in the passage. I explained the way I made my way down the stairs and through the hall. I did not, however, tell her of how I met the so called Phantom of the Opera. I doubted very much that Erik would appreciate it if I told her.

"Thank God you're okay!" Meg exclaims.

"Yes, imagine if you would have had a run in with the ghost? You may never have made it back. Fortune has smiled upon you, my friend." Christine said.

"Wait, how'd you get that cut on your cheek?" Meg asked worriedly. Oh crud. Think, it can't be too hard to lie. You've lied to the headmaster, who is like your father now that you have no family, about the bruises you've received.

"Haha, I tripped and cut my cheek on a rock." I said lamely. I hope she hadn't realized the pause in which I had spent time thinking to myself, but she seemed to not have noticed.

"Wow, I didn't think you were a klutz." Meg said flatly, and the three of us burst out laughing. Madme Giry walked into the room.

"Oh, it seems Mlle. Jay has found her way back on her own." Madame Giry said. I notice that she is looking at my cheek where I've been cut. I smile, trying to tell her without words that I'm perfectly fine. She doesn't seem to be buying it.

"Yes Ma'am. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, I got, uhhhhh..." I trailed off, trying to think up and excuse "...caught up." I muttered at last.

"Please do see that it does not happen again." she said, and with that she left. The three of us shiver.

"Jay, you missed the announcement! We're doing Hannibal!" Meg cheered. Not that it made much of a difference to me, I didn't really enjoy music anyhow. Meg seemed to not notice my indifference, but Christine sensed it.

"Jay, you don't seem to enjoy singing that much." Christine started. Here we go. The same old set of questions. What do I have against music? Why don't I sing? I hear you used to like music, why don't you anymore?

"No, I don't like singing at all." I grumbled. If she was going to ask the questions, I figured I might as well answer them.

"Why not?" she pressed.

"No reason," I said, determined to keep my secrets.

"No reason? There must be a reason for so strong a hatred." Christine said.

"Actually, there doesn't need to be." I said. I refused to become annoyed by the questions, and refused to answer them correctly.

"Jay, please tell us why." Meg begged, finally sensing that Christine was right. I sighed. I didn't know how long I could keep dodging questions before either blowing up at them or snapping and answering all of their questions. I knew that if the later happened, I would most likely freak out in the process.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, with you or anyone else." I said. They looked disappointed.

"Have you ever told anyone?" Christine asked.

"No," I answered.

"Not even your closest friends?" Meg asked.

"I didn't have any friends before moving here, and you can rest assured no one here knows anything." I said.

"You had to have told someone, or else it would be killing you." Christine said. It was true I had told someone many, many years ago, and it had caused them to betray my trust. I vowed that day to never tell another soul. I wouldn't tell them that, of course.

"Nope. No one knows." I said. And with that, I stood and left the room. I knew very well it was after curfew, but that didn't exactly matter to me. At my school back in my own time, I'd gone out after curfew every night, and no one ever cared. The teachers never even noticed. I had taken to playing tricks on the other students in the middle of the night. They would wake to their clothing switched with someone's of the oposite gender, or messages written in what looked like blood (which was really red nail polish :P) on their mirrors. They finally resolved that there was a ghost.

It was my only way of getting back at the world for being unfair. I wondered through the halls, not knowing exactly where I was headed, or where I had been. It was then that I came to a door that almost called to me. It was beckoning me towards it, and I needed to go inside. I walked in a trancelike state, closer and closer to the door. Before I even knew it, my fingers were closed around the cold brass door handle and I was turning it. I pulled open the door and slipped inside.

It was a dressing room, clearly for a more major role than a chorus member. There were paintings on the walls and beautifully crafted furniture. But what seemed to draw my attention was the mirror. I walked over to it, examining it. It was an ordinary mirror, so I had no idea why it seemed to have a magnetic pull. I put my back to the mirror and slid down the wall. I contemplated whether I should go back and explain everything to Meg and Christine. Things would be so much easier that way. But did I want to risk their friendship? No, I definitely didn't want to do that.

"What should I do?" I asked no one in particular. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. The questions had opened up a mental and emotional wound, one that I thought had faded away to being only a scar. And no that it was open, I had no way of stopping the flow of memories that came from it, spilling out quickly as they had been locked away for at least 4 years. And I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that came with it. I cried until the light faded and I sank into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

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><p>When I awoke, I had no way of knowing the time. For all I know, I could've been out only 10 minutes, or it could have been a week. An idea struck me, and I searched through my bag for my watch. I pulled it out hopefully, only to find that it had stopped ticking, probably a very long time ago. I sighed, slightly resigned, and got up from my spot on the floor. I silently slipped away from the enchanting room and into the corridor. Making sure my feet were absolutely silent, I made my way through the maze of twists and turns. Somehow, as if an outside force was guiding me, I ended up at my room. I opened the door quietly expecting to find Meg and Christine asleep. I found Meg asleep in her bed, but Christine was nowhere to be found.<p>

"Meg," I hissed quietly. I shook her slightly and she woke up.

"Mmmmmm. What is it?" She asked groggily.

"Where's Christine?"

"She's over there, in her bed." Meg said, and I could tell she wasn't fully awake.

"No she's not." I whispered. This seems to hit a nerve, as Meg was suddenly wide awake.

"Oh my gosh, she's not here!" Meg screeched. I quickly pressed my hand over her mouth before she could awake the whold opera house.

"Shhh. Maybe she just went to the bathroom. We should go back to sleep." I said, but I knew I didn't quite believe my own words. I wouldn't have woken Meg if I had thought that. But I still layed down and fell into a restless dream full of bad memories.

* * *

><p>Several weeks later, rehersals for Hannibal were in full swing. Unfortunately, today I had dance rehersal at the same time Carlotta had her singing rehersal. She sang like a drunken goat with strep throat. Oh how horrible it was. I wondered if someone had ever mistaken her singing for cries of the Opera Ghost. It sure sounded a hell of a lot more like a ghost wailing than it did singing. I wasn't quite paying attention to where I was whilst dancing, which ended in me tripping over one of the other girl's chains and falling right into Carlotta, knocking the unsuspecting woman over. It was at about this time that the new managers walked in with the old manager. I only knew of this because I had asked Madame Giry.<p>

"Why-a don't you watch-a where you are-a going, you little brat!" Carlotta shrieked in her heavy accent. I could hardly understand what she said.

"Sorry, it was an accident." I said back.

"Well-a, make sure it-a doesn't happen again-a. Amateur." Carlotta said.

"Well, if you wouldn't sing like a dying vulture with a sore throat, maybe I could concentrate a little bit more on dancing." I snapped, my anger getting the best of me.

"Why-a you little-" She began, but was cut off by a backdrop falling on her head. I gaped at her, then fell on the floor laughing my ass off. That was the best thing that happened alll day.

"Karma's a bitch." I mutter under my breath, then look up. I saw a cape twirl and a figure disappear into the shadows. Note to self, thank Erik.

What followed was a large tantrum being thrown by Carlotta, the new manager begging her to stay, and Carlotta storming out.

"Now we must find a replacement!" One of the managers cried.

"Or refund a full house!" Yelled the other. Rehersal ended then whilst Madame Giry atempted to help find a replacement for Carlotta. I decided to slip away from the throng of chorus girls, who no doubt would be busy gossiping about the Opera Ghost. I somehow found myself in the same dressing room with the mirror. I wondered why I had been drawn to this place. I sat down again with my back to the mirror. But I didn't cry this time.

Slowly, and much to my surprise, I found myself singing. I didn't stop when I realized what I was doing, I couldn't stop. I remembered this feeling, how amazing it was to have all eyes on me as I sang a beautiful song, for everything to become lost within the rising music. And then I remembered why I stopped singing. I began to cry again, and realized that I may never be able to sing without crying again. My muse had been taken away, twice now, and I didn't have any reason to sing.

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><p><span>Erik's POV<span>

I stood on the other side of the mirror, observing the girl. I had been worried about her ever since I heard her conversation with Christine and Meg after I sent her back from my lair. It was clear something bad had happened. Something bad enough to make her hate music.

And then I heard her voice. She was singing! I had only heard her hum once, all those many years ago. But that was nothing compared to her beautiful voice now. I knew that I would do it.

I would be the one to bring her voice back.

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><p><strong>Okay, hope you liked chapter... 4, I think? It's been SO long since I last wrote this. I couldn't even remember Jay's name at first... But I had a ton of fun writing this, and it's longer than I originally planned! Then next chapter should be up withing a few weeks, hopefully by next week. Thank you so much for reading, and please review. Authors die without review, because we feel unapprectiated.- (That's metaphorical, by the way. I don't plan on dying any time soon) AND NO, I'm not dead, as you may have thought, or more likely you thought this would be discontinued. I WILL NOT DISCONTINUE THIS STORY! EVER! DO YOU HEAR ME?<strong>

**Anyhow... Please review, and thanks for reading!(I already said that, didn't I..?)**

**See ya next chapter!**


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